Without You
One.
I had fast become used to having you in my life. The way you always smelled of lime and your duvets never seemed to be cold, no matter how much the weather outside made us shiver. You were a constant presence I enjoyed having around. A happy distraction when I felt the stress so heavy in my muscles that I could barely sleep. A relief every time I returned home, exhausted from a job I could barely keep up with but you assured me daily that I was capable, and I found myself believing it would get better.
Now you’re gone everything has changed. When the house creaks it’s no longer a comfort, it’s a reminder that this house is empty, that I can’t really call it a home when it lacks the heart and soul you gave it. Sometimes the smell of limes wafts through the halls and it makes my stomach hollow out and my throat tight and dry. I’m not sure if the smell is even there, or if I’m just hoping I’ll turn a corner and see you back where you belong.
Some days now I forget to eat. Before, the sound of your rumbling stomach would echo around the room, making me laugh as you tried to persuade me you weren’t that hungry, but I’d find my feet guiding me to the kitchen anyway. Dinner was never elaborate, but you’d treat every little thing I made as a banquet. Taking the time to set the table, thanking me in between mouthfuls of food, and demanding you always washed the dishes because it wasn’t the chefs job.
Without you, I kick pebbles and no longer look up to see the sky. I forget my coat on days where there’s snow, but don’t feel the chill until someone asks me how am I not cold?
I get lost on my way to the corner shop down the road, a place where the shop assistant knew me by name before. I lose my keys and leave the front door unlocked, because maybe you’ve lost yours too and will be home before me.
I guess I’m just a little bit lost without you.
I saw you last weekend. She had blonde hair in ringlets passed her shoulder and eyes so brilliant blue they made the summer sky jealous. I was going to wave at you from across the street, but then you glanced my way and looked straight through me, and it left me wondering if I was ever more than a passing moment to you, whilst you were a lifetime to me.
Now you’re gone everything has changed. When the house creaks it’s no longer a comfort, it’s a reminder that this house is empty, that I can’t really call it a home when it lacks the heart and soul you gave it. Sometimes the smell of limes wafts through the halls and it makes my stomach hollow out and my throat tight and dry. I’m not sure if the smell is even there, or if I’m just hoping I’ll turn a corner and see you back where you belong.
Some days now I forget to eat. Before, the sound of your rumbling stomach would echo around the room, making me laugh as you tried to persuade me you weren’t that hungry, but I’d find my feet guiding me to the kitchen anyway. Dinner was never elaborate, but you’d treat every little thing I made as a banquet. Taking the time to set the table, thanking me in between mouthfuls of food, and demanding you always washed the dishes because it wasn’t the chefs job.
Without you, I kick pebbles and no longer look up to see the sky. I forget my coat on days where there’s snow, but don’t feel the chill until someone asks me how am I not cold?
I get lost on my way to the corner shop down the road, a place where the shop assistant knew me by name before. I lose my keys and leave the front door unlocked, because maybe you’ve lost yours too and will be home before me.
I guess I’m just a little bit lost without you.
I saw you last weekend. She had blonde hair in ringlets passed her shoulder and eyes so brilliant blue they made the summer sky jealous. I was going to wave at you from across the street, but then you glanced my way and looked straight through me, and it left me wondering if I was ever more than a passing moment to you, whilst you were a lifetime to me.
♠ ♠ ♠
I think about stuff like this a lot.